


home life

by kay_emm_gee



Series: the kids aren't alright (The 100 tumblr prompts) [105]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7533892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are their (home) stories, <em>dun dun</em>.</p>
<p>{ Prompt: I'm definitely on a Law and Order binge right now, and since you're taking prompts, Bellarke/Wellven in the criminal justice system? Bellamy as a detective, Clarke as the medical examiner, Raven as the forensics, and Wells as the prosecutor? Maybe Miller as Bellamy's partner? Monty as a tech consultant? }</p>
            </blockquote>





	home life

**_i._ **

Bellamy took another bite of cereal as he heard the front door shut behind Clarke. He chuckled under his breath when he heard it open a second later.

“Keys!” she called out from the hall. He grinned at his bowl of soggy Cheerios because she forgot her keys at least twice a week, and a third of those times she made it all the way to work without them. At the very least, it gave him a chance to go from his precinct to the morgue for less depressing reasons that checking on an autopsy or confirming cause of death.

He would leave the keys on her desk because anytime he brought their personal life into work, she’d scowl at him from behind her goggles and mask. Bellamy had to admit that expression was a little bit adorable. He knew not to push his luck, though, not in the fields they worked in. Kane had given him enough flack when they had disclosed their relationship to the department, and Clarke didn’t need any more drama at work, not after her instrumental role in bringing down Dr. Tsing’s black market organ donation ring last year.

Bellamy would take Clarke at home over Clarke at the coroner’s any day, however. Especially when she shuffled into their apartment with a tired sigh, scrunched her nose when he tried to kiss her, and said, “Don’t. I smell like stabbed-to-death biker and strangled politician.”

Her scrubs would come off quickly by her own hands, leaving a trail to the bathroom. And, when she hopped in the shower, more often than not, Bellamy would join her and help wash away the day’s darkness and worries.

* * *

**_ii._ **

Raven was just straightening her blouse when Wells came around the corner of their bedroom. His hands stopped trying to arrange his tie as he looked her up and down.

“You’re so unfair,” he said, his voice dipping a bit low.

Striking a pose, Raven showed off her kickass but professional outfit of sleeveless white blouse and sleek black pencil skirt. It showed her off in all the right places while still maintaining an air of respectability that she would need on the stand today. “Can’t make it too easy for you, councilor.”

“We’re on the same side.” Wells raised an eyebrow in challenge, pointing at himself and then at her. “Prosecutor, federal forensic consultant.”

“Husband, smoking hot wife,” she echoed, repeating his gesture and adding a grin. “It’s my civic duty to make you a little distracted.”

“Menace,” he muttered even as he dropped a kiss to the nape of her neck on his way to the bathroom.

Raven’s grin grew a little bigger, because it was fun to make him sweat. Still, she knew how important this case was. She had already packed a different top in her bag, one that wouldn’t drive him quite as crazy, to change into for the hearing.

And yet, when they came home from dinner that night, Wells didn’t seem to care so much about _what_ shirt she was wearing, so long as it ended up on the floor along with the rest of their clothing before they slipped into bed for a good night’s sleep.

* * *

**_iii._ **

Monty took a sip of his beer before saying, “Hey, about that footage Bellamy thought was altered–”

Nathan interrupted him by frowning and pointing a sauce-covered spoon in his direction. “Nuh-uh. We already broke the rule once this week.”

Monty rolled his eyes. “It’s a stupid rule.”

“Work stays at work. Home is our–”

“Only place where we don’t have to think about shitheads doing shithead things, especially the shitheads in power,” Monty recited from heart. “I know.”

Then he muttered _except we were those shitheads once_ , and apparently not quiet enough because Nathan snorted in amusement despite maintaining a disgruntled expression.

When he turned back to making their dinner, Monty pulled out his phone and dialed Bellamy. As soon as his boyfriend’s partner answered, he quickly said, “Hey, Sinclair forwarded me the tapes finally. I worked my keyboard magic and–oh shit!”

Bellamy started asking what was wrong but Monty was too busy dodging the sprinkles of spaghetti sauce Nathan was flicking at him. Laughing, he tried to back away as Nate prowled around the counter. By the time he grabbed the phone from his hand, Bellamy had hung up.

Which was a very good thing, because what Nathan did next was use his hips to back him against the wall and then kiss him, very soundly, very seductively. Right then and there Monty knew they’d be ordering takeout–but later, because at the moment they had much better things to do.


End file.
